Balance...

Last week I wrote about the internal "to do" list and the desire for open space in my days.  Taking a closer look, how do I balance my program with the rest of my life?

I fully acknowledge that I wouldn't have a "rest of my life" without recovery, but after decades of sobriety, what is the proper ratio of meetings and service to engagement with the greater world? This is a recurring theme in conversations with my peers - the "I got sober to live my life, not just sit in meetings" refrain.

Truthfully, I got sober to get the heat off, to stop the emotional pain, and fully expected to return to the life I'd been living, only dry. I had a very limited frame of reference for a life without substances - an enjoyable life that wasn't "stupid, boring and glum" was not something I could imagine. And then, the alternating exciting and terrifying discovery phase of discerning activities and people and places that have made my life rich and full. So here I am today, as are many of my friends and acquaintances, with lives wonderful beyond imagination; lives beautiful in their ups and downs by virtue of our presence and participation.  We are not looking through a cocktail glass at a life just out of reach - we are living.

And so, now what? It goes back to looking at my reasons for attending meetings and participating in service - am I there to give or to receive?  I need both.  I can't keep it unless I give it away, and I don't have anything to give away unless I am filling my own spiritual well.

I currently participate in several "in home" groups of like-minded folks that meet monthly. This can feel like a deep inhale, giving me freedom from the responsibility of being a long-timer.  And, I attend a couple of open meetings regularly that are a mix of old and new sobriety, that allows the opportunity to give back and to bear witness that 12 step recovery works for the long haul. Some weeks, some months, my formal meetings are fewer and farther between. Life happens. And some weeks I feel like a newcomer, soaking up the joys and pains of those I hear in the rooms.

What is your formula? How do you remain respectful of the process that brought you to long term recovery while honoring the life that you lead today?